The Makeover Takeover. Sandra Paul

seemed a definite possibility.

      But even more compelling was the feeling he’d been having lately; the one that until today he’d chalked up to his imagination. The feeling that Lauren was hiding something from him.

      She wasn’t as confiding as she’d been when they’d first started working together. More and more often, she’d have a shuttered, closed expression on her face when she looked at him. As if she had a secret she was determined not to share.

      Not, Rafe reminded himself, that it was any of his business if Lauren didn’t want to tell him about her personal life. She might be more naive than most women he knew, but she was still an adult, capable of making her own decisions—stupid though they might be.

      Like unlocking her door without a moment’s hesitation. That wasn’t any of his business either, yet he couldn’t help asking, “Don’t you think you should check first to see who’s out here before opening your door?”

      “I usually do,” Lauren said, tucking back a strand of hair that had fallen along her cheek. “But I was expecting someone.”

      “Jay, I suppose,” he drawled.

      She nodded. Even though Rafe had suspected as much, her ready agreement caused a spark of irritation to flare inside him. Not that it was any of his business who she hung out with on her time off, of course. Not at all.

      “Is there something wrong? Do you want to come in?”

      He glanced down at her again. She was staring up at him with a puzzled, slightly worried expression. “Did you come over for anything special?” she added.

      “I just stopped by to see how you were doing.”

      Her face lit up with shy pleasure, and she hugged the door a little closer. “I’m fine now. I don’t feel sick at all anymore.”